


Mama, Put My Guns in the Ground

by miss_grey



Series: What We Do In The Dark [37]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst, Don't try this at home kids, Hospitals, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, demon ron speirs, he is a bad patient, hunter dick winters, protective dick winters, stubborn gene, witch gene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-13 16:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21168455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: Dick glanced down at his hands.  He was covered in another man's blood.





	Mama, Put My Guns in the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my lovely readers! I hope you enjoy <3

Shaking the rain from his hair, Dick sidled into the bar behind a couple innocuous looking young men and he hoped that he blended in, at least until he could get his bearings in this new place. Toye’s—a bar run by a pack of werewolves, and apparently where Lip had been spending his time of late. 

As Dick stepped through the door, he managed to take quick stock of the place—warm, dim, dry—full of young men and a few women, laughing, playing, drinking. Reasonable. He cast his gaze around the crowd, searching out a familiar face, but instead, he found a slim, pale, brunette man staring back at him with a furrowed brow and dark eyes. Dick felt a shiver go through his whole body and he realized that this man, whoever he was, hadn’t simply glanced at Dick—he was _looking at him. _Was he a wolf? A vampire? Something else? Didn’t matter—he wasn’t the reason Dick was here.

Dick was considering the best way to blend back into the crowd and shirk the man’s attention when thankfully, the other man turned his attention away a moment later when a lanky, red-headed young man strolled into the bar and made a bee-line for him. Lip wandered in after him and Dick straightened, a wave of relief passing through him at the sight of his best friend. “Thank God,” Dick muttered, grateful that he wasn’t too late. He edged away from the other men, intent on getting Lip’s attention. Only…. Lip gazed right at him, but not even a hint of recognition flickered through his eyes. He shuffled awkwardly, haltingly, into the room, almost as though his muscles had seized up on him. He cast his gaze around the room, as if cataloguing, but he hung back from everyone, standing in the center, but separate. Dick frowned, his hands balling into fists. _What the hell? _

His attention was torn from Lip in the next moment, however, when the lanky red-head stabbed the willowy brunette who’d been watching Dick. All the hair stood up on the back of Dick’s neck, and a surge of energy pulsed through the room. He thought, briefly, that it was a coincidence, that perhaps this was the regular kind of violence that might happen in a bar, but then the brunette collapsed to his knees and a second later, Lip grinned. Dick watched his best friend clap his hands once, loudly, then fling his arms out, and a wave of power shook through the bar, knocking everyone off their feet and sending them flying. 

Dick felt the wave like a punch to the chest, and then his back was slamming into the wall—he tucked his chin on instinct and managed to avoid having his head smashed into the plaster, too, but the force was enough to knock the wind out of him and he slid down the wall, body limp. 

Bodies went flying, their feet jerked out from under them, and they tumbled, sprawling, over chairs and tables. He heard bones snap as bodies hit walls. Two tough-looking men who’d run from behind the bar to assist the stabbed brunette were suddenly thrust back, and they were flung over the bar, bodies smashing into the bar-mirror, shattering it and countless bottles with them before they slumped, unmoving. 

Lip jerked his gaze toward the corner and a fire leapt up in that place, then he grinned and tipped his head back and _laughed. _Dick fought to suck a breath into his aching lungs, but they were still locked down and his feet were unsteady under him. He scrambled for the words, for the only words that might help in this situation, but before he could, everything went suddenly dark except for the spreading tongues of flame, and then when the light flickered back, both Lip and the young red-head where gone. The brunette lay sprawled on his back, alone in the center of the room, everyone else having been tossed away from him so that he looked like the epicenter of an explosion. His hands pressed to his stomach, but a puddle of blood steadily spread around him. 

Not knowing what else to do in the midst of all this madness, unable to follow wherever Lip had just disappeared to, Dick did the only thing his instincts would allow. He crawled quickly to the center of the bar to where the brunette man lay, his delicate, pale, blood-slick hands trembling as they pressed against his stab wound. “_Fuck,” _Dick hissed, in an unusual show of panic. He pressed his own hands over the other man’s, and commanded “Just hold on! Hold on!” The man’s eyes flickered open, just briefly, and his throat worked like he was trying to say something, but blood bubbled on his lips and he closed his eyes again. This guy wasn’t gonna make it. He was losing too much blood. Blood pulsed continually from between the crimson tangle of their fingers. Dick’s voice was hoarse when he shouted “Someone call 911! Quick! We need an ambulance!” 

Flames devoured the spilled alcohol and continued to lick at the wood paneling of the back wall and Dick knew they needed to get everyone out of there _right now _or they’d have a heck of a casualty list on their hands. All around him, the air was filled with smoke and screams and cries of pain. Shattered glass glittered in the firelight and cut at Dick’s knees. Unsure whether anyone else was in any condition to dial, Dick pulled one of his hands from the man’s stomach and yanked his phone from his pocket. His fingers slipped over the buttons as he dialed 911. Thankfully, the operator’s calm, soothing voice told him “Help is already on the way, sir. Hold on.”

* * *

Dick stood in the street, rain still drizzling down around him, as he took in the scene and tried to make sense of what had happened. He coughed—smoke irritation from the fire—and ran a sleeve over his face to wipe the raindrops from his lashes. His hands were still covered in blood.

The EMTs had just loaded the brunette into the back of an ambulance and whisked him away while the fire department fought against the remaining flames. The bar was still standing, but the fire had already managed to take out most of the main room.

After the EMTs had pried Dick’s hands from the wounded man and taken over, Dick had helped some of the other bar patrons to hobble, bruised and bleeding, from the ruins of the bar while they choked on smoke. Many of them had been able to leave the building on their own strength, but not all. Dick had watched, helpless, confused, while EMTs wheeled out a handful of men, oxygen masks covering their faces, bodies lying still on the stretchers.

_What in the hell had just happened?_

Standing amid the wreckage, Dick had pulled his blood-stained phone from his pocket and dialed Lip’s number. No answer. Dick didn’t know what he’d expected, but he still found himself disappointed. 

He knew one thing for sure, though: the man he’d seen in the bar wasn’t Lip. That meant there were a handful of other possibilities, but given the reason Dick had sped to Philadelphia so quickly, he figured that one of his greatest fears had finally come to pass. Lip was possessed by a demon. And he wasn’t the only one, from the looks of things.

After the last of the wounded had been removed from the premises and the fire department cleared the scene, Dick wandered back to where he’d parked his borrowed car—a silver Ford Escort—earlier in the night. He slid, achingly, behind the wheel and took a moment to simply relax against the aged seat—his head ached and his eyes burned. His lungs felt tight from the smoke and his knees were a bit torn up from the shards of glass that might still be embedded in them. He was covered in another man’s blood.

He dialed Harry’s number and tipped his head back, closing his eyes.

“Dick. How’d it go? Did you find him?” Harry’s voice held a note of worry, but he sounded steady, and Dick was glad for it. He needed it right now, because he had a feeling he was in shock. 

“I was too late.” Dick murmured.

“What?!” Harry hollered, and he could hear Kitty’s voice echo the question in the background. “What does that mean? Dick, talk to me! What happened?!”

Dick swallowed and his throat ached—it was too dry, still coated in smoke. He needed water. “Demons, I think.” Dick coughed. “Harry, everything just went to Hell.”

“Dick—are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Dick opened his eyes and glanced down at himself—he was a real picture, covered in rusting crimson, but most of it wasn’t his. “Not too bad, I don’t think. But, uh…I think I might be in shock.”

“Alright.” Harry heaved in a deep breath. “Okay. Dick, listen closely, alright. I need you to walk me through exactly what happened.”

So, doing his best to stay focused, Dick told Harry everything he’d seen. He ended, finally, with “I think he’s possessed by a demon, Harry. I think a demon got to Lip.” Dick clenched his eyes tightly. “I should’ve come sooner. I never should’ve let him come to this city alone!”

“Hey!” Harry’s voice was sharp and Dick jerked his eyes open once more. “None of that, alright? Lip is a grown man, and he’s responsible for his own choices. This sucks, alright. I get that. But there’s no sense blaming yourself, here. We’ll fix it, Dick. We’ll get him back.”

“How?” Dick stared down at his blood-crusted hands. “He didn’t pick up when I called.”

“I need more information.” Harry said. “I need to talk to Bill Guarnere, right now. Where are you, Dick?”

Dick glanced around. “In the parking lot of a gas station not far from Toye’s bar.”

“Alright. I’m gonna make a call and then call you back when I know more, okay? I need you to stay where you’re at, Dick. Can you do that? Is it safe there?”

Outside the window, the rain continued to drizzle down, and a lone street light cast a watery glare across the pavement. Otherwise, the place was empty. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Got your crucifix handy?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Hold onto it—you might need it. I’ll call you back.” 

Then, the line went dead.

He must have dozed, because the ringing woke him. Dick dragged himself groggily into wakefulness and pressed the answer button on his phone. It felt like it’d been forever, but the clock said only twenty minutes had passed. “Harry.” Dick said, chest heaving. “What did you find out?”

Harry sighed, and his voice sounded weary for a minute, as he said “Well… the situation is either better or worse than we thought, depending on how you look at it.”

Dick frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“The man who was stabbed—the guy you were helping.”

“What about him?”

“His name is Gene Roe. Most people know him as “The Doc.””

“The Doc,” Dick murmured, “Lip mentioned him on the phone earlier. Said the guy helped him with some charm to keep Ron away.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Harry answered. “He’s a super powerful witch.”

“A witch?!” Dick yelped, then “What the hell, Harry?”

“Calm down.” Harry said. “The Doc and I go way back. He’s a…friend…of sorts. In fact, he helped you out once, too.”

The frown was back. “When?”

“The ward around your house.”

Dick thought of the ward that had kept Ron out, then tried to reconcile it to the image of the pale, willowy man who’d been choking on his own blood when the EMTs had pulled Dick away from him. “That was him?”

“Yeah. Where is he now?”

Dick shrugged. “I dunno. The hospital, I guess. The EMTs loaded him up.”

“Which hospital?”

“Central,” Dick said, remembering the words on the back of the ambulance. 

“Alright. You need to go there, find Gene.”

“I still don’t understand.” Dick said.

Harry sighed, and then his voice grew strong again, determined. “Look, Dick. I’ve seen The Doc take on a demon before. Trust me when I say we need this guy. And not only that… like I said, he’s a super powerful witch. He probably knows better than anyone what went down in that bar, and if we plan on getting Lip back, he’ll be the guy to help us do it. You trust me, right, Dick?”

Dick frowned. “Of course.”

“Then go to the hospital. Find Gene. And do not leave his side. I have a feeling the demon might be back for him. Do whatever it takes to protect him, Dick. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, nodding. “Yeah, Harry, I can do that.”

“Good. When you get to the hospital, find Bill Guarnere. He’ll be expecting you.”

“Bill Guarnere,” Dick muttered. “Alright. What about you?”

“I’ve got a lot of calls to make. Right now, we have no idea what this thing plans to do or who its target is, but if it has access to Lip’s knowledge….”

Dick felt a shiver go down his spine. “The other hunters aren’t safe.” His eyes widened. “Shit. Neither are you. Lip knows where Currahee is.”

“He does,” Harry agreed. “So we’ll be battening down the hatches. Go to the hospital, Dick. Let me know when you find The Doc.”

“Right.” Dick nodded. “Take care of yourselves there, Harry.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “You too.”

After the call ended, Dick rested his hands on the steering wheel and stared at them, dumbfounded for a moment. He really should wash them—they were still covered in that guy’s—Gene Roe’s—blood. _A witch. _

Dick swallowed, then punched in the name of the hospital into his GPS. 

It was gonna be a long night.

Dick’s head had finally started to clear by the time he made it to the hospital. Enough, at least, that he ducked into the first restroom he came across and scrubbed his hands and face clean. Then, he tugged his flannel shirt closed and buttoned it over his t-shirt so that the stiff blood stains were no longer visible. Once Dick was convinced that his appearance was unlikely to summon any authorities, he left the restroom and followed the signs to the Emergency waiting room. 

Predictably, the room was busy, but one corner was abandoned, with the exception of a stocky man who paced back and forth, while the other occupants eyed him warily and kept to themselves. The man wore jeans and dark green t-shirt, and Dick recognized him vaguely from the bar. Setting his shoulders, Dick made his way across the room to the other man.

The guy lifted his gaze as Dick approached. “Bill Guarnere?” Dick asked.

“Yeah.” The guy sized Dick up for a minute, then held out a hand. “You must be Winters. Harry said to look for a red-headed GI Joe type.”

Dick shook the man’s hand warily and looked him over for a minute. He was also streaked in red and black, and an open gash above his right brow continued to leak blood sluggishly. After shaking, Dick withdrew his hand and motioned toward Bill’s forehead. “You should get that looked at,” Dick said, “It’ll probably need stitches.”

“It’s fine,” Bill said, shrugging off the concern, “it’ll stop bleeding soon.”

Dick quirked a brow, absorbing this information for a moment. “I uh…assume you’re part of the Pack? Harry didn’t say as much, but….”

“Yeah,” Bill said, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension that had strung his whole body tight. “It’s my Pack.”

Dick cleared his throat. “How, uh…how are the others?”

Bill laughed, but the sound was sharp, wrong, like it’d just been ripped from his throat. The werewolf choked it back quickly and shook his head. He took a minute to compose himself once more before he raised his eyes to Dick’s and said “It ain’t good. A handful of my guys walked out of there on their own two feet, and thankfully some of the others weren’t at the bar at all tonight. But, uh… some of the boys are in the back now, bein’ seen to.”

“Anyone seriously injured?”

“Maybe. Don’t really know for sure, yet.” He shook his head. “And, uh… Babe.”

“Babe?” Dick quirked a brow. A girlfriend, maybe?

Bill’s chin quivered and he ran a hand over his face to steady himself. “Yeah. Red-headed kid. If you were there, you couldn’t have missed him.”

“The guy with the knife.” Dick said.

“Yeah, him. Kid’s like a little brother to me, and now I don’t know where the hell he is, or what happened. I have no idea what he was thinking.” Bill shook his head sadly, confused.

Dick stared at the wolf for a minute. “Pretty sure he’s been possessed by a demon.” He murmured.

Bill’s eyes snapped up to his. “Yeah. Fuck. That’s what Harry said, too.” He tightened his jaw. “How the hell could this have happened? He’s just a kid. An innocent kid! He’s not even a wolf, damn it! He’s a human kid!”

“Really?” Dick frowned. “There a reason he went after, uh…Gene?”

“The Doc, you mean?” Bill asked. “Yeah, probably because he was the only guy in the bar that could’ve stopped it.”

“So why didn’t he, then?” Dick asked. “Harry said he’s a powerful witch. Why didn’t he notice and stop it.”

“Because the fucking thing snuck up on us! It caught us off guard!”

“Yeah, but that kid…Babe…got right up in his space. Wouldn’t he have noticed?”

Bill’s lip trembled again, and a tear appeared in the corner of his eye. “No,” he said, “whoever the fuck that demon was, he did his homework. Babe and the Doc are together.”

“Like…_together, _together?”

“Yeah,” Bill said, voice watery, “that kid was the only one that could’ve gotten so close to the Doc without tipping him off.”

“Hmmm.” Dick filed that information away for later—it was probably important. Especially because it was sounding more and more like this wasn’t random—Babe and Lip. Why those two? Dick shoved his hands in his pockets. “How is he?”

“Who? The Doc?”

“Yeah.”

Bill shrugged. “No idea. He’s still in surgery.”

“Do you think he’ll make it?”

“Yeah, probably.” Bill shrugged. “He’s a little guy, but he’s a tough son of a bitch.”

“Harry sent me to watch over him.”

“Good. That’s good. He deserves to have someone there with him.” Bill cast his gaze around the waiting room, but after deciding that nothing had changed, he focused on Dick once more. “You ever met him before?”

“No.” Dick shook his head. “I guess he helped me once, but uh…I never knew who he was before tonight.”

“He’s a good man.” Bill said. “I’d be there with him myself, but I’ve got others to worry about, too, ya know.”

“Harry’s afraid that The Doc will be targeted again.”

Bill snorted. “Yeah, guy like that—wouldn’t surprise me. If I was an evil son of a bitch, I’d wanna take him out, too.”

Dick frowned. “Is he that much of a threat?”

Bill stared at Dick for a minute, then said “I’ll let ya make up your own mind about that. But if those really were demons that took Babe and Lipton, they’re probably hauling ass as far as they can away from here.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s in love with Babe. And he’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up.” Bill bit his lip and his shoulders wilted. “It shames me to say it, because Babe is family to me, and I’d do anything for the kid, but these demons? They’ve got me feeling out-gunned. They tore our place up and took out a handful of my guys in a single minute.” He shook his head. “The Doc’s the best chance we have of getting Babe back. And if your friend is with him, then The Doc’ll help you too. It’s sort of his thing.”

Dick nodded, because he didn’t know what else to say. “When will we know more?”

Bill shrugged. “We’ll know when we know.”

“Will they tell us? Don’t you usually have to be family for that?”

Bill looked at Dick out of the corner of his eye, already turning away to focus on the doors to the Emergency room. “Usually, but I’ve got a connection. Nurse on duty tonight.” Bill swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “She’s Babe’s ma.”

Dick heaved a heavy sigh and filed that information away for later, too. 

After another hour of waiting, a teary-eyed nurse approached Bill and murmured something low enough for just him to hear. She laid a hand comfortingly on his arm then pulled away, casting Dick a wary glance before she headed back through the automatic doors. 

Dick wandered over. “Any news?”

“Yeah.” Bill nodded. “One of my guys—Julian—a human kid… he’s got a broken arm, a couple broken ribs, and a fractured skull. He, uh…he’s still unconscious.”

Dick swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah,” Bill said, shoulders straightening again, “thanks. But he’s alive. That’s what matters.”

“Right.” Dick nodded. “I need to go make a call. Need anything while I’m gone?”

“No,” Bill answered. “Thanks, though.”

As Dick made his way from the waiting room, he left Bill standing guard like a worried sentry, eyes focused on the ER doors.

The glass-enclosed courtyard might have been peaceful, except that through the fluorescently-lit windows, Dick saw countless people sitting, pacing, waiting. He turned his eyes away from the windows and made his way toward a slightly damp bench. He was grateful that it’d finally stopped raining. 

Sighing heavily, he pulled his phone (still smeared with crusted blood) from his pocket and dialed Nix.

The call was only halfway through the first ring when the vampire picked up, voice tense. “Dick. Are you okay?”

Dick sighed. “I’m fine, Nix.”

“What happened? Did you find Lipton?”

“No.” Dick’s voice cracked, so he coughed, then tried again. “Nix, something terrible has happened.”

It took a lot of effort to relay what’d happened a second time, but Dick wasn’t in shock anymore, and he realized how hopeless it sounded this time. Lip, snatched by a demon. Two of them, at least, wreaking destruction already. Lost in the night. Gone, without a trace.

After he’d said what he needed to, Dick waited for the other shoe to drop. Thankfully, though, Nix must’ve realized how sensitive Dick was at the moment, because his voice was soothing, supportive, when he said “Can I come to you now?” He was good enough not to say _I told you so. _Dick might’ve loved him for that alone, if nothing else.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dick said. “I’m still at the hospital, Nix. There’s a lot of blood.”

Nix growled over the line, but didn’t argue, because he knew that this time, Dick was right. “Not yours, though, right? You’re okay?”

“Not much, anyway,” Dick answered. “I got some glass in my knees, so they’re a little cut up. But, uh…besides that, just some bumps and bruises. I got lucky.”

“I don’t like you being there alone, Dick.”

“I’m not alone.”

“Surrounded by strangers, then.”

“Harry vouched for this Bill Guarnere guy. And The Doc.”

Nix snorted. “A witch and a werewolf. Isn’t Harry supposed to be a hunter? What’s he doing making friends with these guys?”

Dick managed a chuckle. “Asks the vampire of his hunter boyfriend.”

Nix huffed. “Fair enough.” The line was quiet for a minute, except for the light sound of his breathing. Then, “Are you safe?”

Dick shrugged, though he knew Nix couldn’t see. “About as safe as anywhere else, I guess.” Dick ventured. “I’m at a hospital.”

“Do you have your crucifix?”

“Yes.”

“Holy water?”

“Got a flask in my pocket.”

“Good man.” Nix said. “Keep them handy, alright.”

“I will. I feel like the world’s been turned on its head.”

“Yeah.”

“I just don’t get it,” Dick said, “why now? Why take Lip now, after everything? And why this other kid?”

Nix sighed. “Harry said this Doc guy will know more, right?”

“Supposedly.”

“Then we’ll just have to wait until he can tell us.”

Dick frowned. “Yeah.”

“I miss you.” Nix said.

Dick smiled, just slightly, shoulders slumping. “Miss you too.” He breathed in the chill night air and coughed again, lungs grateful for the clean air after the smoke. “I’m gonna have to head back in.” Dick said.

“Alright. Keep me posted.” 

“Will do.”

“And take care of yourself,” Nix admonished. “I love you.”

Dick smiled, for real now. “I will. Love you too.”

After he’d hung up, Dick used the corner of his flannel to scratch the blood from the dark face of his phone, then he shoved it back in his pocket and made his way back to the ER waiting room.

When he got there, Bill and the middle-aged nurse were both waiting for him. Before Dick could ask, Bill said “The Doc’s outta surgery.”

Dick glanced at the nurse and she nodded, her chin wobbling for a second, before saying “I’ll take you to him.”

Dick didn’t know what sort of strings they’d had to pull, but he figured it was a good thing that the Pack knew a nurse who worked at the hospital, because somehow Gene Roe had ended up with a private room in the ICU. It was small, and fairly cramped, but it accommodated a hospital bed and a guest chair. Thankfully, it also had a privacy curtain which could be pulled in front of the smallish window. 

After Nurse Heffron delivered him to the room, she hurried away quickly, dabbing at her eyes, and Dick remembered that this man, Roe, was her son’s boyfriend. Dick felt a wash of sympathy for her. These things were always hard. Worse if you knew the person, and terrible if you cared about them.

Once she’d gone, Dick made his way to the hospital bed. The man was the same one from the bar, but he had a name, now, and a story. Dick frowned.

Gene’s face was pale, deathly white from blood loss and the freezing chill of surgery. Only the soft flesh under his lashes had color—bruised bluish gray from the trauma and exhaustion. The hospital blankets were pulled up to mid-chest and Gene wore a thin, paisley hospital gown underneath. His bluish black hair was dull against the pillow, his lips thin and bloodless. Above the blankets, his arms stretched out, palms up, and he trailed lines and IVs from them. Dick glanced down at the man’s hands. Long, slender fingers. Delicate. Vulnerable.

This man did not look like the super powerful witch that Harry and Bill had spoken of with respect and a touch of awe. _The Doc, _they’d called him. Dick hadn’t bothered to ask why. Maybe he should’ve.

He rested his hands on the bed railing and glanced down at them. A few hours ago, Dick’s hands had covered Gene’s, and he’d done his best to keep the man alive. Dick still wore his blood, under his flannel. The thought of it made him nauseous, and he made a mental note to change when he got a chance. 

Dick stood there, watching, for a moment, but nothing happened. Gene continued to breathe through the nasal cannula and the bedside monitor continued to beep softly, as the IV dripped fluids steadily into the line. Harry’s voice echoed in the stillness of Dick’s mind. _Do whatever it takes to protect him. _Dick nodded to himself and then settled into the chair by the man’s bed, resigned to wait. For as long as it took. And he did his best not to think of Lip, and what might be happening to him right now.

* * *

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

That nothingness stretched on for an interminable time.

Then, eventually, there was something.

The world was gray, and fuzzy, and monotonous. _Beep, beep, beep. _The world was heavy. Blankets of gray mist held him down. He lay flat, immobile, mired in gray, at the bottom of a well. Seemingly endless, gray walls rose up all around him. Far, far away, he could see a light, all the way at the top of the well. He couldn’t hope to reach it. Not from here. _Beep, beep, beep. _That was okay, though. He was fine here. He could stay here. The gray mist closed around him again and he let it go.

The darkness murmured. Gray mist swirled around shadows, and that faraway light, again, maybe closer this time. _Beep, beep, beep. _Couldn’t tell what the murmurs meant. Just on and on, like water over rocks in a shallow creek. Didn’t matter. _Beep, beep, beep. _He let it go.

Suddenly there was breath. _Oh. _That was _his _breath. And…yes, that heaviness that held him down…that was his body. The light was closer now, reddish-orange, refracting off the gray mist, to cast odd shadows against the backs of his eyelids. _Beep, beep, beep. _What was that noise? And where was he? _Beep, beep, beep. _It was fine. He was okay. He exhaled deeply, and the darkness dragged him back. The light faded.

Voices, this time. Nonsensical. In and out, didn’t matter. _Beep, beep, beep. _What in the world was that sound? _If only… _A finger twitched. Oh, yes…body. That’s right. A second one followed. Further, further. A…toe? Yeah, that worked. A breath, huffed. And _oh, _that was _pain. _He’d recognize that, anywhere. It took his breath, and he let it, willingly. _Too much, too soon. _The mist rolled back in, and he allowed it to take him. 

The mist tossed, tempestuous, rocking, and he felt it grasp at him, tug him further down. _Gonna be sick. _Sick? _Beep, beep, beep. _Swirling, swirling. Hot and cold, and _I’m gonna be sick. Sick, sick, sick! _His finger twitched, the corner of his mouth, an eyelid fluttered. Then, creeping out of the mist, a figure, and the words, _Miss me?_ hissed right into his ear, lips so close they brushed.

Gene’s eyes flew open with a gasp and he reached out, or tried to, but he was stuck, tied down. The room suddenly came into focus, the mist dissipating enough to reveal a bed, and a chair, and a figure. Gene opened his mouth, to cry out, maybe, or to curse, but he only coughed, hacking, his throat dry as a desert. A deep stab of pain accompanied it, and he shut his eyes against it and the light, wheezing, a tear leaking from the corner of his eye. He felt it pool, then roll down his cheek. His throat burned. Suddenly, cool plastic pressed against his lips and he opened, and swallowed gratefully when water poured in. He sighed, the pressure easing, and the mist closed in again.

The room came to him in shades, like the breaking of dawn. First, the darkness faded, and the gray followed, and then he was bathed in orange, pink, red, peach, light. Then they softened, and shadows appeared. Blues, and greens. Everything was soft, still, for a while, as his eyes adjusted, and then the lines grew sharper, and Gene breathed through the pain that accompanied his waking. _Beep, beep, beep. _He twitched a hand, and the IV tugged. _Alright, I know where I am, now. _He hurt, all over, but the pain was dulled, distant—he could feel it scratching at the wall, trying to find its way in, but they must’ve given him medication. Gene sighed heavily and became aware of the plastic in his nose. The stiffness of his body, propped up just slightly, in a narrow bed with railings. He turned his head, just a fraction, to the side, and found a man sitting beside him, watching. 

His first impression was: tall, red-hair, strong, serious face, serious blue eyes. Not Edward. The man watched Gene observing him. He cocked his head slightly to the side. “Need more water?” And Gene recognized the voice, suddenly—he pulled it out of the mist with him, an echo, a command, _Just hold on. Hold on. _Gene nodded, throat too dry to answer.

The man rose from his seat and brought a plastic cup of water to Gene’s lips, and yes, this was familiar too. Gene drank gratefully, allowing the water to soothe his parched throat, to heal it. When he’d had enough, the man withdrew, taking the water with him, and he settled back into his seat at Gene’s side. Gene swallowed, his throat working, before he coughed, then winced, because yes, _bright—flash—pain—_he’d forgotten about that. He licked his lips. “Who are you?” He finally asked.

The man’s lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile, but couldn’t quite make it happen. “Dick Winters.”

Gene coughed again, and _oh yeah, that hurt. The medication must be wearin’ off. _“Dick short for Richard?”

Dick cocked his head, a bemused smile actually curling his lips this time. “Yeah.”

Gene nodded. He let his eyes trail over the man again, until they fixed on a chain dangling from his pale, freckled hands. “That a rosary?” He asked.

Dick glanced down at his hand, then nodded, holding it up for Gene’s inspection. “Yeah.”

And Gene felt one line of tension ease in his shoulders. _Not another demon, then. _He cleared his throat and said, “I’m….”

“I know who you are.” Dick said, and Gene knew that should worry him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel anything as strong as that. _Damn medication. _Dick continued: “I’m a friend of Harry Welsh and, uh… Carwood Lipton.”

Gene stared at him for a moment, eyes feeling heavy. “You helped me.”

Dick nodded. “I did.”

“Why?”

Dick studied him for a moment, and Gene took the opportunity to study him right back. _Please let these drugs fade quickly. _His senses were smothered, helpless. Dick shrugged, finally. “Because you needed help.”

Gene quirked a brow, and surprisingly, that hurt, too. “That’s awfully nice of you.” Dick shrugged, but chose not to comment. Gene licked his lips—still dry, chapped. Dehydrated, most likely, despite the IV bag hanging in his periphery. “I helped you once, too.”

Dick nodded. “So I’ve been informed.” He paused. “Thanks for that, by the way.” He cocked his head. “Why’d _you_ do it?”

Gene felt his lips tug up, just slightly. “Because you needed help.” He drawled.

Dick chuckled, and it changed the entire shape of his face. The lines around his mouth pulled up, and Gene saw that they were laugh lines, not frown lines like he’d thought. His eyes caught the light and Gene saw that they were a bright blue. After a moment, though, he settled again, and his brows drew together in apparent worry. “How are you feeling? Should I get a nurse? It’s probably time for more medication.”

“No,” Gene said, protesting quickly. “No more medication.”

Dick frowned. “It’s gonna hurt really bad without it.”

Gene nodded. “Pain I can handle.” He was grateful when Dick chose not to argue with him. He took a moment to control his breathing, to absorb the pain. _In, out. In, out. Okay. _“What happened?”

Dick frowned at him. “We were hoping you’d be able to tell us that, actually.”

Gene shook his head. “No.” He cleared his throat and Dick rose, bringing him water, again. Gene drank. “Thank you,” he said, sincerely. Then, “After, I mean. What happened after?”

“Oh.” Dick averted his eyes. “The fire department and EMTs came. We got everyone out. You, uh…you lost a lot of blood. They had to do surgery.”

“How bad?”

“You should probably rest.”

“I’m restin’ right now. How bad?”

“Are you sure you want to hear this right now?”

Gene huffed, frustrated. He’d be able to tell, himself, except those damn drugs were keeping his senses pinned down. Gene leveled a stare at Dick. “I’m a doctor, too. Tell me.” 

Dick’s brows rose at this declaration, and maybe he knew who Gene was, but he obviously didn’t _know who Gene was. _Dick cleared his throat. “The knife did a lot of damage. It tore up your stomach pretty good and nicked your liver. The blade had a serrated edge, they said. And, uh… it twisted on the way out. Like I said, a lot of damage. You won’t be eating any solid food for a while.”

Gene hummed. “How long was I out?”

“About six hours.” He shifted in his seat. “Look, I probably should get a nurse.”

“What happened to the others?”

Dick sighed, shoulders slumping. “No one died. But some are in critical condition. I don’t know all the details. But Bill Guarnere is around here somewhere. He could probably fill you in.”

Gene’s brows leapt at that, and he tried to push himself to a sitting position, but hissed when the movement pulled at his stitches. _Right. Forgot about those. _

“You should probably take it easy.”

“Bill is here?”

“Yeah, he’s been checking in with some of the Pack members.”

“Will you help me to raise this damn bed?” Gene muttered, then, frustrated at having this conversation on his back.

“Sure,” Dick said, though he threw a glance over his shoulder, first, like he expected a nurse to storm in and berate him. The head of the bed lifted steadily with an electric hum, and Gene felt the pinch of stitches as his abdomen folded. He sucked in a pained breath and Dick stopped. “That okay?” He asked, voice worried.

“Yeah,” Gene muttered. “Thanks.” He regarded the red-headed man silently for a while, before he decided to ask the question he’d been afraid to. “What about Edward? And Lipton?”

Dick frowned. “Edward?”

“Babe.”

“Oh.” Dick’s shoulders slumped. “In the wind, both of them. Lip isn’t answering his phone.” He shook his head. “We’re assuming demons.”

“Yeah,” Gene said, nodding. “Two of ‘em. They must’ve jumped Edward and Lipton out back behind the bar.”

“Do you have any idea why? Or what they might want?”

Gene sighed, pressed his eyes closed. “Some.” Dick frowned, but thankfully didn’t ask him to elaborate. _Beep, beep, beep. _Gene turned to glance at the machine. His numbers were actually surprisingly good. He turned back to Dick. “Sorry, but, uh…why exactly are you here, again?”

“Lip is my partner. I’m gonna do whatever I can to get him back.”

Gene nodded. “I can understand that.”

“Harry told me you’re good at what you do. He said you’d be able to help and he asked me to stick with you.” He cocked his head, measuring his words this time. “Bill Guarnere is convinced that you’ll be able to help Babe.”

Gene met his eyes, but didn’t say anything. Dick seemed to see the answer anyway.

Dick shook his head. “Look…not to be disrespectful or anything, but…you’re injured. You’re probably gonna be laid up for a while.”

Gene shook his head. “Not too long,” he said, lip curling ironically, “I heal pretty fast.”

* * *

Eventually, a nurse peeked in and frowned when she saw that her patient had awakened without anyone notifying her. She scolded Dick and sent him out of the room for a moment so that she could record Gene’s vitals, change his bandage, and ask him how he was doing. 

Dick stood just outside the door, but still he felt uncomfortable—he didn’t know this guy at all, and yet the fates had thrust them together. Harry had said to protect him, and Dick would, but… well. The guy was laid up in a hospital bed with a stab wound. Dick wasn’t sure how much help he’d be any time soon. Still… when Gene grimaced in pain at the nurse’s prodding, Dick had to hold himself back from stepping into the room once more. 

Dick was close enough to hear Gene murmur a soft protest when the nurse attempted to give him more pain medication. “No, thank you ma’am.”

“Don’t be ridiculous…you’ve had a major surgery. It’s going to hurt very badly.”

“I understand. I’d still rather not have any more medication.”

“It will be hard for your body to heal if it’s stressed. And it _will be _stressed as soon as the pain medication has been metabolized.”

Gene nodded. “Thank you for the concern, really. I ‘ppreciate it. But I’m conscious and I’m askin’ you not to.”

The nurse huffed. “Fine. But if you change your mind, you let me know.”

Gene nodded once more, and finally allowed his shoulders to relax back into the bed. “Thank you.”

After the nurse had jotted down Gene’s vital information, she allowed Dick back into the room once more, though she gave him a critical eyebrow quirk as they passed. Maybe she thought Dick was responsible for upsetting the dark-haired man. 

Once Dick had re-settled in the bedside chair, Gene turned his dark, glazed eyes back to him. Dick regarded him for a moment: pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead, eyes squinted already. “You know,” Dick started, “the nurse had a point. You’re going to start hurting really bad soon.”

Gene nodded. “I’m aware.”

“Would it be so bad? Just to take the edge off?”

Gene stared back at him for a moment, and Dick could almost see something like a shadow moving behind his eyes, but then the other man turned his gaze away and shrugged lightly. “Don’t feel like myself. Can’t concentrate.”

And he seemed pretty determined, so Dick decided not to press. Instead, he relaxed back into his seat and folded his hands in his lap, one eye always on the other man. Eventually, Gene rolled his head back toward Dick and asked “Isn’t there anywhere you need ta be?”

Dick cocked his head slightly, regarding the pinched, slightly frustrated look on Gene’s pale face. “I’m thinking this is where I need to be right now.”

Gene huffed lightly and murmured “Suit yo’self, then.”

Then, he sighed and allowed his eyes to flutter closed once more. He slept, though it was a fitful slumber, and Dick couldn’t help noticing the grimace that fluttered over Gene’s lips, or the frown that pulled at his dark brows. The man was in pain. Probably a lot of it. Dick shook his head at the man’s stubbornness and hoped that he had a good reason for this.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again, he found Bill Guarnere parked in a chair next to Dick Winters, both of them looking upon him with solemn, worried eyes. Bill he could sort of understand—they’d known each other for a while and they shared people who they both loved. He still couldn’t figure out why in the world Winters seemed to care what happened to him. Sure, he’d said something about Harry Welsh vouching for Gene, and perhaps Gene helping to find Lipton once he was able. But the somber depth to Dick’s blue eyes looked more than simply business. Funny, of course, because this man knew nothing about him. And yet, here he sat.

As Gene blinked in the dim hospital room, Bill hitched up a wobbly, forced smile, and said “Hey, Doc, how ya feelin’?”

Gene forced his own ironic twitch of the lips. “Alive.” He cleared his throat and reached for his water, which Dick passed over helpfully. After washing the smoke and blood back down his throat, he said “How are the others?”

Bill twisted his hands together and heaved a breath. Gene could feel the tingling brush of his worry, of his helplessness, at the edge of his awareness, but it was still fuzzy. His head was still clouded. _Damn drugs_. “Most of the guys came through alright. Bumps and bruises, ya know. Joe was cut up a bit. Malark broke his arm. They’ll heal pretty quick, though.”

Gene nodded. “Anyone else?”

Bill shook his head sadly. “Julian’s in a coma.” His throat continued to work after he’d said the words, almost as though he longed to say something else, something helpful.

“Where is he?”

Bill shook his head. “Uh, uh, Doc. Don’t even think about it. You’ve got enough to handle right now.” Gene’s mouth twisted into a grimace and Bill continued: “Julian’s got good doctors lookin’ after him, and the Pack is here. They’re doin’ what they can.”

“They can’t do what I can.” Gene murmured.

Bill clenched his jaw for a moment, took a deep breath. “No one can do what you can, Doc. But that ain’t the point I’m tryin’ to make.”

Gene leveled his eyes on Bill’s. “What is it, then?”

“You need ta take care of yourself. You need ta heal.” Gene watched as Bill’s fist clenched. “Then you need to figure out how the hell to get Babe back from whichever demon fuck snatched him.”

Gene’s throat grew tight and he felt as though someone were squeezing his heart. _Babe. _Gene nodded. “I will.”

Bill shifted back slightly in his seat. “I know ya will, Doc. But that’s where your head needs ta be right now. I can help Julian and his family. I can help the other guys. But…demons? I’m out of my depth here, Doc. But you’re not.”

Gene nodded. The room grew quiet again, the three of them sitting there in contemplative silence, then Gene shifted so that he could sit up a bit more. “I need ta get out of here.”

Bill and Winters both protested at the same time, their words a clamoring jumble in the room. Bill’s protest went something like “Babe would kill me if I let anything happen to you on my watch,” while Winters instead said “You’ve just been stabbed.”

Gene leveled his dark, even gaze at both of them and waited for them to shut up. First, he said to Bill “The demon who attacked me…who possessed Babe…he knows who I am, and I’m a danger to everyone as long as I’m here. This place isn’t even warded. I need to leave.” To Winters, he frowned extra hard and insisted “I’ll be fine.”

Bill’s mouth tugged down unhappily. “You sure about this, Doc?”

“I’m sure.”

“You’ll need some clothes.”

Gene glanced down at the paisley hospital gown he wore. “Yeah, probably.”

“I’ll have Babe’s ma bring you some. She’ll be able to help with your jailbreak.”

At the mention of Babe’s ma, Gene’s heart clenched and he wondered how much she knew. Wondered what her night had been like. Or…day? Two days? He’d lost track of how long it’d been since his world turned upside down.

Gene nodded and fought not to show how broken he felt. “Thanks, Bill.”

“Yeah, Doc. ‘Course.” Bill shuffled in his seat again for a moment before he stood and leaned over the bed rail so that he could be closer. He laid a thick, warm hand on Gene’s shoulder and said “If I don’t see ya again before ya leave…take care of yourself. Bring Babe back. And kick the shit outta the thing that did this.”

Gene pressed his hand over Bill’s for a moment, met his eyes and promised, “I will.”

* * *

Dick was relentless—even as he sat in the bedside chair quietly. He hoped his eyes conveyed his deep concern and reproach, since the other man obviously was not listening to his words. Bill had left a little while ago, and now they were waiting for Gene’s get out of jail free card. Dick thought that it must be a terrible joke.

The other man was still pale, weak enough that he couldn’t sit up on his own, still needed sustenance through a damn IV line and yet here he was, demanding to leave the hospital. Dick couldn’t figure him out, and he still didn’t understand what the big deal was. The guy was standoffish and rather cryptic when he answered questions. Granted, the guy had just been stabbed and was currently hospitalized, but Dick didn’t understand why Bill and Harry both seemed to regard him with such awe. He was a pale, slender guy with delicate hands and dark, tired eyes. _He _was going to help Dick get Lip back? _He _was gonna deal with the demons who had done this to their friends? Maybe it was all the years of hunting, or Dick’s own stubbornness, but he’d have to see it to believe it in this case.

He was still trying to figure out a new way to talk the guy into staying in the hospital at least for a couple more days, when nurse Heffron appeared in the doorway, a sad shadow, with her hand pressed over her mouth, her other hand holding a bundle of clothes to her chest. Her eyes were tired and red-rimmed from grief and exhaustion. Dick stood up immediately to offer his chair, but the woman didn’t even glance at him. Her eyes were fixed on Gene, and he glanced up to meet hers. She stood, hovering in the doorway, and they just stared at each other for a moment. 

The air thickened with tension and a million different things that were going unsaid until finally Gene broke it when he flung the hospital sheets away from himself, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and, before Dick could reach out and stop him, levered himself shakily to his feet. 

Nurse Heffron gasped and rushed forward, probably to usher Gene back into bed, but when she reached him, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. Choking on tears, she bowed her head to his shoulder and hugged him back, the spare clothes still clenched tightly in her fist. “I’m sorry,” Gene gasped, his deep voice sounding wrecked. Dick saw his hands tighten on the nurse’s uniform. “I’m so sorry.”

Mrs. Heffron sobbed into Gene’s shoulder and he held her and choked on his own tears and Dick felt like an intruder—this wasn’t something he was supposed to be seeing. This was deep, heart-broken grief. 

The minutes ticked by and eventually the sobs trickled back into hiccups and then a low-murmuring that Dick didn’t try to decipher. Finally, Mrs. Heffron pulled away and ran the back of her hand across her red, swollen eyes. She sniffled and gave Gene a once over, her eyes fixed on his middle, where blood had seeped through his hospital gown in a dark, sticky patch. She swallowed thickly and said “You should be in bed.”

Gene waved her off like he had everyone else, but his voice was soothing now, instead of stubborn. “I’ll be okay. I promise. But I need to leave.”

“Bill told me some things, but… I don’t understand. Not really.” She cast Dick a brief glance then seemed to dismiss him again, as though he were simply part of the scenery. “You know what did this to my Babe?”

Gene nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

“Did he…” She paused, caught her breath. “Was it that monster that did this to you?”

Gene’s dark eyes lowered. “Yes.”

She gasped. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Gene said, hands reaching for her again. “None ‘a that. It wasn’t him. It was a monster, like you said.”

She nodded. “Babe told me before…. Dealing with these sorts of things…he said it’s what you do.”

Gene sighed. “That’s true.”

Mrs. Heffron’s chin trembled but she cleared her throat and straightened her back. “So you know what needs to be done? You… you know?”

Gene glanced back up and something in his eyes had changed—they were clearer, deeper, and Dick could have sworn he saw something spark within them, like distant lightning. Gene grasped Mrs. Heffron’s hands in his own and said “I promise you that I will find him and I will bring him back.”

She nodded, silently, her throat working to keep the tears at bay. 

“I’m gonna need a few things first, though.”

“I brought you some clothes.” She said, offering the bundle. He took it gingerly and laid it on the rumpled hospital sheets.

“Thank you. My things are at your home still. And I’ll need somethin’ of Edward’s.”

She stared into his eyes. “It’ll help you find him?”

“Yes.”

She reached into a pocket and pulled out a key which she pressed into his hand. “Then take whatever you need. Just bring my boy back to me.” Gene nodded. “And take care of yourself.” She leaned forward and wrapped him in her arms again. “You scared me, too.”

Gene nodded. “I promise.”

“Good.” Nurse Heffron cleared her throat again and said “Give me about twenty minutes and I’ll clear the way for you to leave out of the side entrance. Will that work?”

Another nod. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Heffron pressed a quick kiss to Gene’s cheek, threw Dick a parting glance, and then she was gone.

Dick turned his back respectfully while Gene slowly, painfully, pulled on the sweatpants, t-shirt, and hoodie that Mrs. Heffron had brought him. Dick had offered to help, but predictably, Gene had refused, insisting that he could do it himself. Dick tactfully decided not to press the issue, though he felt increasingly nervous after having seen the patch of blood on the hospital gown. This guy was gonna get himself killed. Dick knew it. While Gene dressed himself, Dick caught the slight gasps and choked back grunts of pain and he had to clench his jaw against saying anything. This was foolish. So foolish.

“Where are we even going?” Dick asked.

“We?”

Dick snorted. “I told you—Harry told me to have your back, and I trust Harry. If you can help us to find Lip, then I’m sticking with you. That’s my best friend out there.”

Gene huffed. “Fine.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“I have to get outta this hospital. Place isn’t warded and I’ve got at least two demons on my ass. Maybe more.” Dick turned to face him and saw that he looked even smaller now, swimming in clothes that were obviously meant for a much broader man. “Then I gotta pick some things up from Edward’s.”

“Alright.” Dick nodded. “And then what?”

Gene shrugged. “Then we find ‘em.”

Dick snorted. “Just like that?”

Gene huffed, and just the slightest trace of a smile curled his lips. “Gotta get outta the hospital first.”

They made it through the hallways and down the stairs okay, though it was slow going. At first, Gene had attempted to maneuver the hallways on his own, but he stumbled more than once and so finally, despite his frown, Dick had pulled the man’s arm over his own shoulder and wrapped an arm around Gene’s waist, hand gentle on his hip. The stairs were the worst—he should’ve taken the elevator (hell, he should still be in a bed), but they’d needed to sneak out the back, and Dick could just imagine the stitches pulling painfully with every single step, blood beginning to soak through the t-shirt.

Eventually, though, they pushed the heavy fire door open and emerged into the crisp air of a Philadelphia night. “Come on,” Dick said, arm tightening around Gene, “my car is this way.”

With slow, deliberate steps, they made their way around the hospital toward the ER parking lot where the little Ford waited. They were almost there, too, when a shadow stepped away from the building and blocked their way, the lights hitting the figure awkwardly to cast multiple shadows.

Dick and Gene both tensed. “What do you want?” Dick growled.

The demon, Ron Speirs, took a single step forward, hands up in apparent surrender. “I want the same thing you do.” _Doubt it, _Dick thought. “To get Carwood back.”

“Don’t,” Dick hissed. “Don’t say his name. This is your fault. Get out of our way.”

Ron stared at him for a moment before he turned his attention to Gene. “I came to talk to you. Witch.”

Gene tipped his head slightly and Dick tightened his arm around the other man. “What do you want, demon?”

“To find Carwood, like I said.” His eyes flickered to Dick for a moment, and he said “I can do it. I can find him, quickly.” Dick’s pulse jumped at the declaration, but then Ron continued “The only thing stopping me is that little spell you gave him.” Ron cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders, as though he were preparing for a fight. “I’ve come to ask you to remove it.”

“And then what?” Gene asked.

“If you remove it, I can find Carwood and deal with the demon who was foolish enough to take him.”

“How?”

Ron shrugged. “I’ll burn the demon right out of him. And the other too—a single touch and I can lay them to waste.”

“And the hosts? The humans?” Gene drawled.

Ron shrugged again. “I’ll protect Carwood. He’s the only thing I care about.”

Dick stiffened and his arm tightened around Gene further. The other man tilted his head. “I see.” He stared at Ron a moment, then said, “I think you should leave this be. He came to me in trust, Carwood. I’ll bring him back. You should leave.”

“I won’t.” Ron growled. “Look—I asked nicely. But I have other ways. I’m not leaving here until you lift the spell.”

Suddenly, the air changed. Dick felt it like all the oxygen had just been sucked out of the alleyway and he had to fight to take a deep breath. Above, the street-lights flickered. The atmosphere felt electrified, sparks crackling over Dick’s skin as all of his hair stood on end. And then, very carefully, Gene shrugged out of Dick’s hold and stalked toward the demon, his stride smooth, determined, unlike anything Dick had seen so far. Gene’s voice was a smooth, deep threat as he said “Leave, now. I don’t know how to kill a demon yet, but if you get in my way, I promise you I’ll figure it out real fast.”

Dick expected Ron to strike at Gene, expected that he’d have to exorcise the demon _again, _but Ron must’ve felt the same thing that Dick did, must’ve understood a little bit of what the others had been trying to tell Dick for the last two days. Because instead of pushing the witch further, Ron clenched his jaw, took a step back, and then disappeared. 

Dick was frozen, his feet refusing to budge, and he simply stared at the long, straight line of Gene’s back before the man slowly, incrementally, relaxed his shoulders. The pressure in the air lessened until Dick could finally take a deep breath again. Gene sighed, rolled his shoulders, then glanced back at Dick, the darkness in his eyes still sparking. “You comin’?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, swallowing thickly. “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are love and give me life. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. Also, feel free to come say hi on tumblr. I'm @realhunterswearplaid.


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